


Love that bares and love that tears

by Neko_Airie



Series: Rarities come in Handy [16]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 10:29:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1466068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neko_Airie/pseuds/Neko_Airie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Porthos is shot and d'Artangan metas justice with an iron blow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love that bares and love that tears

**Author's Note:**

> Another great idea from the ever wonderful Selene467

Lunge. Slash. Parry. Block. Thrust. The movements are second nature to d’Artangan now, he lets his muscles remember the moves so he can plan ahead in the fight, seeing three or four moves ahead is essential. Athos was doing much the same thing on the other side of the field, matching him move for move. It was rather pointless that they sparred together after all, they matched and one or the other would never win, but it kept them fast and skills up to scratch. Porthos and Aramis were instructing a group of recruits on the proper ways of swordsmanship. Pointing out certain aspects of Athos stance and d’Artangans form when lunging. It was a typical day in the barracks, training, then drinking.   
Porthos was just preparing to make a comment about the way in which d’Artangan shifted his weight when parrying Athos thrust when he was cut of by a yell.  
“Pothos du Vallon!” Porthos turned and searched for the source of his voice, there was a man; about Porthos age and clear baring a deep grievance towards the man. He was brandishing a rather fierce pistol around, swing it from side to side. “It’s your fault, it’s was you!” Aramis and Athos were slowly moving to flank their larger brother. d’Artangan and Anumpama stayed back, out of the line of sight ready to move and strike. Porthos raised his arms slowly, trying to placate his would be attacker. “What have I done?” His voice was calm and easy, Adelynn was still lead on the floor but anyone who cared to look could see that she was tense and ready to move. The attacker laughed loudly, it was a harsh sound that grated on though who heard it. “You stole my life. Everything you have was meant to be mine. You who should still be in a gutter in the street.” He was getting more and more hysterical as he spoke. Aramis hand was resting on his own pistol preparing to quickly strike, Evette was vibrating with suppressed energy. Porthos shook his head minutely towards Aramis, this needed to be handled calmly. 

d’Artangan heard the sound of footsteps above him on the wooden balcony above, Treville must have come from his office when the stranger started shouting. He kept his attention on the attacker as he yelled the hysterical ramblings. Porthos made to take a step forward, bad move, the man brandished the pistol. He fired. d’Artangan watched with horror as Porthos pitched back and fell to the floor. Aramis and Athos crowded round him and tended to him, calling his name and trying to stem the bleeding. d’Artangan turned back to the assailant, the man who had hurt Porthos. Anumpama began to growl, padding the floor and her hackles rising and teeth showing. His mind was spinning, who was this man to hurt one of his brothers. His carefully constrained wild side was always there, just under the surface, waiting for the moment when reason was second to the adrenaline of the situation. They had slipped once before and they consequences had been emotionally painful and they had kept it tightly under control, this control was slipping.

He lunged, he went not for his pistol or sword, he wanted to use his bare hands to make this man pay. The stranger shrieked as d’Artangan crashed into him and began to pound at him with his fists. The satisfaction that he felt when bone crunched beneath his fists and blood slipped between the clinched fingers from cuts on his victims face and body. His victims was facing justice at his hands, here and now he would learn the cost of his actions. Anumpama had found the attackers daemon a scrawny ferret, she had her pinned under he giant paws. She was pressing down, slowly crushing the screaming daemon, her long claws were pricking into the side of the daemons body. 

One of the new recruited attempted to intervene, he ran forward aiming for d’Artangan. His compatriots yelled at him to stop, that is was suicide but he ran on. Close enough now that a few flex of blood that came from d’Artangans savage justice splattered and peppered his face. Anumpama made for his with a snap of her jaws and let out an earth shattering roar. The recruit stopped dead and backed away slowly. Aramis looked up from his ministrations of Porthos wound and looked on with a heavy heart, he could see the anger and need for justice that cloaked his young brother, he could also see the love from which this stemmed and the love that would tear him apart when his senses were returned to him. Love caused this, love for a brother both in arms and in bond, a love for a mother father and brother dead and taken by that which he could not control. The love and protectiveness that bore a need for justice to be given to that innocents that was injured. And it would be love that pulled the pieces back together, love of a soul bonded.

Treville was taking the first steps towards the stairs to dash to Porthos when he heard the enraged yell, he stopped and turned just in time to see d’Artangan crashing into the attacker and lashing out with fists. He froze, terrified of the fury that he could see in d’Artangan. Tulsiol backed up against his legs with her eyes fixed in the scene before her. d’Artangan’s face was twisted into a sickening parody of a triumphant grin at this carnage that he was creating. Treville was cringing when the squealing of the daemon became maddening and shrill. “Do something. Make him stop.” Tulsiol was speaking to him he realised. Blinking himself out of his daze he dashed down the stairs, feet pounding heavily on the wooden stairs.   
“Stop! d’Artangan, I order you to stop!” He yelled to order with authority and power, it had little to no effect. “Musketeer! You are a Kings Musketeer, I order you to stop!” He hid the horror at the sheer violence in this young man in his voice. Treville watched as his order gave little indication that he had even acknowledged his existence. He realised that he had no way for stopping the scene that was happening before him. d’Artangan was out of control, he was out for blood and he was going to get it. He considered the idea of appealing to Anumpama but soon realised that it was nearly pointless, she was just as bad as her human. Her claws were pressing deeper into the daemon now, slowly sinking into the dust made flesh. He was powerless now and it scared him.

Porthos struggled to his feet, the wound had glanced his arm, tearing at the upper layers of flesh. It bloody hurt, but it wasn’t a bad wound. He used Aramis as a lever to help pull him up. Athos was trying to split his attention between his bleeding brother and his wild lover. Bijou was dancing with suppressed panic on his shoulder. Porthos placed his hand on Athos shoulder and made slow steps to d’Artangan. “Stop, please. d’Artangan. This is wrong and you know it.” He called to his brother, praying that he could get through the hazed of revenge that he had slipped into. “This isn’t you.” d’Artangan paused for a second looking up and seeing Porthos, his grip on his victim loosened slightly. A tiny light of humanity flickered in his brown eyes. Porthos walked closer now, his wound pressured to stop the bleeding, he understood what d’Artangan was feeling; anger, the need to protect and avenge those he considered family. He understood, he himself had many instances like this when he wanted to protect that which he loved, maybe not to the same degree at the sheer animalistic rage that he could see though. “d’Artangan, calm. I am fine.” Athos and Aramis quickly came up behind Porthos, they we ready to act if the opportunity presented itself . d’Artangan turned back to look at his victim now, Anu had stopped her compression of the daemon, still she held it though. In the split second that d’Artangan looked away Athos and Aramis sped forward and clamped a tight grip around d’Artangans body and haggled him away. Evette and Adelynn went for Anumpama then, adelynn using her larger body mass to push at her side and force her away from the daemon.

Once d’Artangan was securely with Aramis and Porthos, Athos moved to secure the attacker to one of the larger struts that made up the barrack supports. There really was no real reason that he needed to be secured, Athos doubted that he could move any further than a few pace after the beating that d’Artangan had given him. He raised the mans face and felt his heart grow heavy, the damage was extensive he doubted that much of it could ever be repaired. Such violence and malice, like Milady, he felt rotten that his mind had circled back round to this realm of thought again. His mind flashed back to the pain in d’Artangans eyes when Athos had proven to fear him before. He let the mans face fall and it lolled sickly against his blood stained shirt. 

Athos turned back to d’Artangan, expecting to see him fighting to get back the attacker and resume his assault, what he saw was a distraught young man staring at his own hands and then at the damage he had done. Tears were coursing down d’Artangans face, he looked disgusted and horrified and Athos knew that it was directed towards himself. Athos wanted to cry as well now, Milday would never have cried at this, she would have taken pride in it and used it as a point of pride. He watched as Aramis having tended to Porthos wound (it didn’t even need stitching) washed the blood from d’Artangans hands and inspecting the damage that he done while meeting out justice. Porthos was sat holding the bowl of the pinkish water and quietly comforting d’Artangan. Athos listened in to the words that Porthos was saying.  
“I’m the big brother, I’m meant to be the one that does the protecting.” transferring the bowl to one hand he made to place his hand on d’Artangans should but froze when he heard d’Artangans speak. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to let go.” d’Artangan looked at Athos from across the court yard, Anumpama was knelt next to him watching calculating still tense and ready. “Please don’t leave me” Trevile who had been watching pushed Athos forwards.  
“Don’t abandon the boy. He loves far to much.” Athos nodded and made his way across the yard. d’Artangan was still looking at him with his large doe eyes. He knelt before d’Artangan, clasping d’Artangans shoulders. “I will never leave you.” He gestured other two “We will never leave you.” Aramis smiled and clapped him on the back.  
“Your a fierce bloody protector I’ll give you that lad. I’m glad to have someone that protects like that with me.” Athos tugged him into his chest and held him close.  
“You Mon Petite Gascon are perfect just the way you are for me. Everything that had made you this protective and loving is something that I would not wish on anyone, but it made you the way you are and I thank god everyday that you are the way you are because you are you. Wild and unpredictable, loving and protective, d’Artangan."


End file.
